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<title>Soul Song by DandelionDrabbles (AnonymousDandelion)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510562">Soul Song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/DandelionDrabbles'>DandelionDrabbles (AnonymousDandelion)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dialogue Prompt Fills [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Conversations, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Realization, Soul Bond, implied soulmates, soulmates dialogue prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:00:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/DandelionDrabbles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale is silent most of the way home from the bombed church. It’s not until they’re sharing a bottle of wine that he voices one of the many thoughts vying for his attention.<br/>“How did you know?”<br/>Crowley glances at him. “How did I know what?”<br/>“That… that I was in trouble. You always know."</p><p>(Soulmates dialogue prompt fill #2.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dialogue Prompt Fills [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Aspec-friendly Good Omens</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Soul Song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>See prompt in end notes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale is silent most of the way home from the bombed church, mind churning with feelings and realizations. It’s not until Crowley has accepted the insistent invitation to at least rest his feet in the bookshop, and they’re sharing a bottle of wine (one of the bottles Aziraphale couldn’t bear opening during the past eight decades), that Aziraphale voices one of the many thoughts vying for his attention.</p><p>“How did you know?”</p><p>Crowley glances at him. “How did I know what?”</p><p>“That… that I was in trouble,” Aziraphale clarifies. “Your timing was perfect. How did you know?”</p><p>“Oh.” Crowley looks confused. “I… just did.”</p><p>“You always know.” Aziraphale is thinking aloud now. “It was the same in Paris, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Crowley makes one of his trademark vowelless sounds.</p><p>“Don’t tell me that was coincidence. You had no reason to be in the Bastille. You <em> knew</em>. How?”</p><p>“It…” Crowley waves a dismissive hand.  “I just knew.”</p><p>“But <em> how</em>?” Aziraphale persists. He isn’t sure why he’s pressing this issue, or why it matters. But he is, and it does.</p><p>“It’s like…” Crowley gulps wine. Waste of a good vintage, Aziraphale thinks absently, but he’s mostly focused on Crowley’s response. “Like my soul sings when it feels you. All the time, really. But it’s louder when you’re in danger.”</p><p><em>Oh</em>. Aziraphale takes a gulp of his own wine, never mind the waste.</p><p>“I… I just <em> know</em>, okay? Hold up,” Crowley says. “You do it too. Summoning circles… that dragon killer… how do <em> you </em> know when <em> I’m </em>in a bind?”</p><p>That’s not something Aziraphale has given much thought to, before today. “Much the same,” he admits now. “Something like, er, a soul song. Or whatever angels have instead of souls.” He frowns. “Only, I’d assumed it was… an angel thing. Like prayer, perhaps.  But if you feel it too…”</p><p>Crowley shrugs. “Angels, demons, same stock.”</p><p>“Same stock. Right. That does seem… logical.”</p><p>Aziraphale does not mention the fact that Crowley is the <em> only </em> being whom he has ever sensed liked this. He does not ask if Crowley senses anyone other than Aziraphale like this.</p><p>He does not mention any possible correlation between this sensing and the feelings that Aziraphale only just recognized, but that he suspects have been there for… a very long time.</p><p>He does not mention it.</p><p>But he does feel Crowley’s presence, safe and solid and <em> there</em>, and Aziraphale’s soul sings.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: "My soul sings when it feels you."</p><p>Thank you for reading! If you're inclined to comment, I'd love to hear what you thought. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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